Chapter 4

Val watched unflinchingly as each man died on the ropes. Inside, she felt a dark pleasure at seeing them all die. They were oathbreakers and cowards, and besides Alliser Thorne, all died like it. The man who hated Jon for reasons Val didn't even want to understand seemed to want to have the last words. His speech had affected Jon.

At each side of her, Tormund and Sigorn nodded as they saw the justice being served. The Free folk that followed them to the Wall stood behind them as well. A show of force for those of the Watch, but also more. Her two companions wore their best clothes. Tormund had the golden bands engraved with the runes that showed his ancestry. Sig wore the bronze greaves and the leather shirt sewn with bronze scales that signal him as the Magnar of the Thenn, but his cloak was a black sunburst sewn on its back, Alys' work. She stood proudly at Sigorn's side, in a similar cloak and a black wool gown lined with white fur.

Val wore the ermine mantle, over a white cloak and gown lined in gold.

Jon looked to her with a pained expression as soon as Olly died. Val gave him a sad nod and watched as her still-not-lover turned back to the dead boy.

"How young was he?" Alys asked in a low tone.

"Ten-and-six."

Alys let out a sad breath and looked to the snow-covered ground.

"Old enough to know better," Sig claimed. He put one of his arms around Alys' shoulder. "You are of an age with him. Would you have done what he did?"

"Never," her dark-haired friend said vehemently. "I am no Bolton."

"That you are not, my lady," Donnel Flint spoke.

Joining him was Torren Liddle, both leaders of two of the mountain clans. Val had been surprised to see them yesterday. Tormund explained to her in their meeting that most of the Northmen abandoned Stannis when he burned his daughter, and without anywhere else to regroup, they joined the Free Folk in Moles Town. Something that almost made Val laugh since the mountain clans were the most against her people. The peace was only kept under the banner of guest' rights, but when the news of Jon's death came to them, it suddenly seemed everyone was friends of old.

She hoped that peace would last.

Val kept her ears on their conversation but her eyes on Jon as he gave his Lord Commander's cloak to Edd. Val couldn't hide her smile.

"Finally," Alys spoke.

"This time, no one in the North can say he broke his vow," The Liddle spoke.

"Do you have news?" Val asked him.

"The clansmen want those Boltons out of Winterfell and a Stark in there." His brown eyes looked between her and Jon, who walked in their direction. "Even if our new King marries a Wildling princess."

Val didn't have the time to protest at the name because Jon was suddenly there, arm around her waist. If he wanted to show the people that he was not sleeping with Val, he was going over it the wrong way.

"We should make you a new cloak, Lord Jon." Alys teased.

Val almost feared Jon reacting badly, but the opposite happened.

"You're right, Lady Alys, my old one no longer fit me."

"Clearly," she said with a shine in her eyes.

"What now, The Jon?" Flint asked with less tact. "Where do you plan to go?"

The glint in his grey eyes should have been enough for Jon to understand he hoped for one answer only.

"South."

"Any plans, my lord?" Torren Liddle asked before Donnel could demand that Jon march on Winterfell right at that moment.

Jon's eyes turned to her. His dark eyes were not much different from last night. His gaze communicated everything Val needed to know.

"Get warm."

Val's feet curled, and she fought the urge to drag him into their bed and this time not let him get away with heavy kissing. She had enough of that last night and this morning.

Neither of the mountain clan's lords was pleased with his reply. Val gave them a look, she had made it clear to them yesterday that Jon would need time to adjust. He wouldn't just jump into battle without motivation. And Val feared they didn't have the numbers to fight the Boltons. Donnel was about to say something when a horn interrupted him.

The horn blast made everyone stop in their tracks.

"Riders approaching!" Someone screamed, and everyone relaxed.

"Open the gate!" Another black brother screamed.

"Are we expecting more guests? If so, someone should have warned us. Our silk sheets are in the closet." Edd spoke.

Val felt Jon freeze next to her as the three riders entered the courtyard. There was a blonde woman in fine armor, something that surprised Val. I thought there were no spearwives in the South. And her armor is too costly to be a woman of the Free Folk. A young man accompanied her, and he looked as shocked to be where he was as the people were of his presence.

The girl in the middle sat on her horse in a fine silver cloak that had seen better days. As the tall woman helped her off of the horse, Val noticed her trembling hands.

Jon stepped closer to them. Val followed him as he had yet to take his arm from her waist. Her eyes shifted to Alys, who seemed shocked by the girl's presence.

"Arya Stark," she muttered slowly.

Val turned to Jon and held his hand. She knew what that name meant to Jon. The little sister he adored with her wild spirit that Jon spoke of with of a smile. The girl didn't run, nor Jon. Only stared at him and then fell onto the snow, shaking.

"My lady." The blonde woman shouted as she came closer, but that triggered the girl who began to crawl away from her and more closely to them.

Ghost moved to stop the tall blonde from following her. His teeth opened in a warning. The tall woman drew her sword but seemed fearful of the wolf. Good. The direwolf showed he restraint by not attacking the woman.

Val knelt beside her on the ground, but still at a distance. Her fit of shakes disturbed her. The girl was beyond traumatized.

"Arya," she said softly. The girl looked up with fearful brown eyes. Val wasn't expecting that. Jon said Arya was the sibling with the most Stark look: dark hair and grey eyes. "No one will hurt you, but your protector will die if she attacks Ghost."

"My lady," the tall woman was about to protest when Ghost gave a silent snarl.

The courtyard was silent as if waiting for the bloodshed. The tall woman wouldn't be the first one stupid enough to try and kill Ghost. Why someone would try to kill a wolf almost as big as them was beyond Val's reasoning.

Yet, the tall woman still wasn't putting down her sword, and Ghost was an enormous pile of anger.

"Jon!" Val called him, knowing he would be the only one able to break the impasse.

He seemed confused with Arya's presence but hearing Val's voice, he focused on his sister. They locked eyes, and the girl broke.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I know... I'm so... sorry. Jon... He forced me. Arya I ... I'm sorry."

Realization seemed to have hit him, and he came closer to them.

"Jeyne? Jeyne Poole?"

"I'm so sorry." The girl kept crying.

Val wasn't sure what to do. The girl wouldn't want a stranger next to her but Jon was frozen in shock and pain.

Alys suddenly appeared next to them. She looked between all of them and then took off her cloak and offered it to this Jeyne girl without touching her. The girl took a couple of heartbeats to take the cloak and even more in accepting Alys' hand.

Val joined a tense Jon. This time, her hand was the one that circled his back. Her other hand touched his heart.

"It's not Arya," he said in a heartbreaking voice.

Val looked at the trembling girl who only let Alys close to her. The blonde had finally sheathed her sword but didn't move. Her eyes were on Jeyne as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The girl looked at Jon with broken eyes, and Alys looked almost as sad as Jon. Val squeezed Jon's jerkin and felt him taking a deep breath.

"Satin, prepare a room in the King's Tower for Lady Jeyne and-"

"Brienne of Tarth and this my squire Podrick Payne."

Jon blinked at the names but turned to nod at Satin who left to follow his instructions.

"I'm sorry I lied." The girl said in a whisper, looking between Jon and the tall woman - Brienne. "I was scared, I had nowhere to go. I just wanted to run from him."

She said him like he was the devil, but everyone understood who he was. Ramsay Snow. The man Jon said married his little sister Arya. The bastard of Bolton had a reputation that made some of the worst Free Folk look like gentlefolk.

"Don't worry, Jeyne," Jon said. "You can rest, and then we'll talk."

It was the wrong thing to say, as the girl clung to Alys in panic.

"Don't make me go back." She said between sobs.

"No!" Jon almost shouted. "You're safe here, Jeyne. I meant, talk about what..."

Val spoke in a soft voice. "Jon means for you to rest and, if you wish, you can join us for dinner. Jon is preparing to leave the Wall, but if you wish, you can come with us. We'll protect you, but we must speak about our destination first."

Jeyne looked at Alys, who gave her a small smile, and Brienne, who stared at her with a look of pure betrayal. The girl looked down in tears.

"No one will hurt you, Jeyne. " Val promised, and the girl in question looked at them.

Jon didn't know how to deal with a traumatized girl, but Val had seen women like Jeyne before. Not every woman North of the Wall were warriors, and in some clans people understood that. Those women wouldn't be able to defend against others, but they had their own strengths. But when the clans began to merge… Val lost count of the women she saw being stolen return beaten and bloodied. And those whose families didn't defend, Val did.

"No men stay at the King's Tower besides Jon. Alys and I have been sleeping there for moons." She looked at the free folk around them. "I can have two spearwives at your door."

The girl looked confused, but soon two women approached.

Val smiled. "These are my friends Freyna and Myrtle," Val introduced. "If you wish, they will guard your door. I swear by the Old Gods, no one will enter your room without your permission."

"Alys." She whispered. "Alys can enter."

Alys nodded solemnly, clearly understanding how important it was to have the girl pick someone.

"Alys will join you. She has a dagger to protect you and a crossbow in her room." Val said, taking off her dagger from her belt. She made sure to have the hilt turned to Jeyne. "You can have mine own too."

The girl looked at the object in fear, but with a trembling hand, she slowly took got it.

"I don't know how to use it." She whispered.

"Stick them with the pointy end," Jon whispered in a faraway tone.

Val offered the girl a smile. "What he said."

"Come with me, Jeyne. I'll have a bath drawn, and then you can sleep for as long as you wish," Alys offered, and guided the girl to the tower.

Val nodded at the spearwives, who followed three steps behind. The tall woman didn't follow them. Instead, she walked up to Jon and Val.

"She's not Arya Stark?"

At her question, the two members of the mountain clans approached them as well.

"No, her name is Jeyne Poole. Her father was the steward at Winterfell." Jon shook his head. "They went south with Lord Stark. She was Sansa's friend."

"She's not Ned's girl." Donnel Flint said, displeased.

Seeing all of this and remembering Brienne's look of disappointment when she found the girl's name, and a big part because of her own guilt about hiding Shireen's fate from Jon and Ser Davos, Val snapped.

"She's a traumatized girl! Who cares what her name is! She wants someone to keep her away from this Bolton who terrifies her."

"Val is right," Jon spoke. "She is an innocent girl who has been through enough. What I don't understand is what you are doing here, Lady Brienne. Were you part of Stannis' army? Tarth is in the Stormlands."

The woman was almost furious with Jon's words. Val almost grabbed the dagger in her boot. But then looked at the woman. Her size alone was enough to make Val doubt if she would be able to do her harm. Throwing a dagger would also do nothing against plate armor.

"I served King Renly. I was part of his Kinsguard."

Jon seemed as confused as Val. "Still doesn't explain why you are here."

"I promised Lady Catelyn Stark that I would find and protect her daughters." The warrior woman continued her tale and why she came north and Val let her eyes travel to Tor who was staring at Brienne.

Val let out a laugh at her friend's clear excitement.

.

.

Val rested her head on Jon's shoulder as they laid by the fire. He had one hand around her waist and another on the tip of her braid. Jon had been telling her tales of Arya Stark and what he knew of Jeyne Poole. In a way, he opened up about this past, but Val knew he did it to ignore the pain of killing Olly and the uncertainty of his sisters' location.

Soon, Jon turned the conversation from Winterfell, to the lands of the south and he was trying to convince Val of why she would like sand and Dorne's fruits. She still had no idea what an orange was.

"Are you really leaving for the south?" she asked after taking a sip of ale.

"No. We are leaving for the south. I can't stay here, not after what happened."

"I can't just run away with you, Jon. I have people to look after."

"We'll take Dalla's babe with us."

"I am not just speaking of him." She said, hiding her frustrations at Jon. He didn't underhand her role. Not yet "The Free Folk are my people. Mance is dead. It is my job to lead them now."

"As their princess? Should I get you a tiara?" He jested.

"You still don't know a bloody thing about us." She protested, moving slightly away from him. "Blood doesn't mean something to most of the wildlings, but not all. The Thenns follow the Magnar line. But with many commanders' death, only the Magnar of Thenns and Tormund remains of the old alliances. And me."

"Old alliances?"

"Do you think we are just a band of clans who constantly fight each other? Not always. Some of us live in organized clans, like Tormund's people. He is called the Mead-king of Ruddy Hall for a reason. Ruddy Hall is up north, by the Shivering Sea. Mother Mole's in Hardhome. My people and my mother and her mother before. The Antlers. With the Thenns, we are the more organized of the clans and the most populous tribe. The old alliances happen between these clans on occasion. It is the reason why there are occasional Kings-Beyond-the-Wall."

"What about Mance?"

"Mance is different. It was much more than the old alliances and some villages that he convinced. But if not all- most of the Free Folk. They are still together because everyone knows the real enemy. But there still needs to be a council and a leader."

"I thought Tormund was Mance's second."

"He is. But that doesn't mean he is the next king. The people of the Frostfangs and the Frozen Shore won't follow him."

"Why?"

"Because he lacks magic in his bloodline. Do you think Mance kept Varamyr Sixskins in his inner circle because of his advice? No. He was the most powerful warg in our generation. Having him meant having the Frozen Shore on our side."

"But you're not a warg."

"No, but I am a Learned One. And I come from a line of powerful wargs. Besides, I have the blood of the old Kings too."

"I thought kingship meant little for the Free Folk."

"To the Free Folk that don't stay in a place or clan, and those closer to the Wall. It doesn't mean a great deal. But those older clans? It does. And when half of them believe you are in charge, soon others will as well."

"With each day that passes, I understand less of the Free Folk."

Val kissed him for a heartbeat.

"All that matters is that, as long as Tormund and Sigorn stay by my side, the Free Folk will follow us. At least until the Other's are defeated."

"That's why you are always together," Jon realized. "What if you didn't get along?"

"The Free Folk would be fighting amidst themselves the moment Mance died. Perhaps before, even. Don't get me wrong, not all of us want the same things, but at least we all agree the Others are the bigger threat."

"I wish people south of the Wall understood that." He let out a breath in frustration.

"You need a united North. The Free Folk and the North need to fight together. Mance knew he couldn't take Winterfell. He needed to work with the Starks. That's why he allowed you to live with us for so long, even knowing you were always a Crow."

"That's why you offered to marry one of Stannis' men."

"Well. I thought I was going to marry a Stark." She told him with a pointed look. "But he turned down the offer. But, yes. With Winterfell on my side, we stood a chance against the Others and of some resemblance of peace afterward."

Jon was thinking deeply, and Val turned to their food, allowing him some time.

"You will be fighting their wars forever," he said, troubled.

Val turned to Jon. His face was shadowed with melancholy.

"Those were Ser Alliser's last words. I am not that idiot. The Donnel and The Liddle are here for a reason. Even Alys Karstark. She wants her home back as much as she wants my protection. I just thought you weren't like them."

Jon got up and began to pace around the room.

Val looked down to hide her pain from his dark eyes. His accusation hurt much more because it was true. When he was just a handsome crow, she cared little for who he was as a person, but Val was willing to marry him for her own gains. At the same time, Val was no different than any woman in the south.

I am no Ygritte, Jon. She was wild and free and loved you because you were Jon, her lover. Simple and pure.

"I have a duty to my people, Jon. And if I have to play the games of the south to protect them, I will."

"If Roose Bolton came here and offered you the North for your hand in marriage, would you take it?" He yelled, throwing his goblet at the wall.

"A Kingslayer and oathbreaker? Who do you take me for?" She shouted back.

They glared at each other until Jon pulled her up. Val didn't have time to protest before he was kissing her with the ferocity of a wolf. She moaned as he backed her against a wall. Val stripped him of his jerkin, and his lack of patience ripped most of the laces from her gown.

"Fuck," he growled as Val began unlacing his breeches between gasps of breath. He stripped her of her gown and undergown until she stood before him in a chemise.

His eyes became impossibly dark as he pulled her into a passionate kiss. Val wrapped her legs around his waist, both moaning at the contact and breaking the kiss. She pulled his hair, making him groan. In retribution, Val felt the little bites he gave her all over her neck and whimpered. She closed her eyes and scratched at his back, moaning his name as he sucked and kissed every bit of skin he could find.

Val felt the warmness coming from his chest and the clear sighs of pleasure from his body and hers. She let her head fall into his shoulder as his hands moved between her thighs.

"Val, are you and Jon coming for dinner?" Alys asked from the other side of the door.

"Fuck." Jon groaned out and moved away, and Val suddenly felt cold. She considered the repercussions of killing Alys, and Jon began lacing his breeches. "I..." He stared at her exposed breasts and then back up. "Fuck."

Val almost laughed as Jon took a very deep breath and bit his lip in a move she knew was not at all innocent.

His eyes darkened with desire, but Val could see his mind already deciding as he clenched his sword-hand.

"We'll be there," he said louder.

Val groaned in protest.

.

.

Val strode into the room and joined the main table, where a group was already eating. Val was surprised to see the Flint and Liddle lords and looked for Melisandre and Davos but found them at a table farther away from where Brienne sat. The warrior lady in question was on the opposite side of the table where Jeyne sat. Val almost scoffed.

She sat down and found it very interesting how Alys and Brienne blushed. Especially with how bewildered the latter appeared as she looked at Val. Even the boy that had come with Jeyne blushed and tried very hard not to stare at her.

Tor's belly laughter called the attention to everyone. The lordings tried to look unaffected but barely hid their grins, Satin winked, and Sig rolled his eyes while Edd turned to Jon.

"I know you like wolves, but you don't need to bite her, Jon. She is not food."

Val began filling her plate with food. Unlike the women at the table, she showed no discomfort at the topic that made the men turn to Jon, who pointedly did not look at her.

"Does the little crow need some pointers?"

Val, who had three times in the last two days been denied a sexual release by Jon, glared. Last night, she understood. This morning, she had been slightly frustrated, especially when she awoke Jon with neck kisses and a part of her body atop his morning wood. They were clothed, but Val had hoped Jon would enjoy unwrapping the clothes off her body, only to be interrupted by the impending morning executions.

"No, he needs to stop letting something, or someone interrupts us."

Tormund laughed while Val took a long sip of ale and turned to glare at her lady friend. Sig clucked and winking at a red-faced Alys.

"A letter for you, Lord Commander." a black crow came, his red-face showed that he heard the conversation.

Was everyone on this damn Wall as frigid as the weather? Did they not know the best way to keep warm was sex?

"I'm not Lord Commander anymore," Jon replied, taking the letter.

As soon as it was made visible, Jeyne whimpered. The girl was trembling and pale as snow. Val shifted her gaze to see the pink wax. Bolton. Outside the scroll, in bold words, it was written: Bastard.

Alys whispered something to the girl, but Val couldn't hear since Jeyne sat at the end of the table.

Jon opened the seal and began reading it out loud.

"To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. Your false king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed." She saw Melisandre and Ser Davos get up and walk towards them. "I have his magic sword. Tell his red whore." the Red Woman didn't even flinch at the insult, but Val saw the pain in her eyes. It mirrored Ser Davos' own.

"Your false king's friends are dead. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell. Come see them, bastard. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North." Seeing how he was fisting the letter, Val squeezed his thigh and let her hand rest there.

"Winterfell is mine, bastard. I will have my bride back."

Something dark passed through Jon's expression, and she felt him tense under her hand. Jon took a deep breath and closed his fist. Val was about to relax when he slammed his fist down on the table with such strength that it rattled the plates closeby.

"Jon," she whispered in his ear as the entire hall turned silent.

In a tense voice, he continued. "Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon. His direwolf's skin is on my door. Come and see. I want my bride back. I want the red witch." He fisted the letter, and one of his arms pulled Val closer. She moved her free hand to hug the arm holding the letter.

Her eyes moved to the end of the table, and the poor girl with silent tears streaming down her eyes.

"He'll come for me. For us," she said softly. Her brown eyes looked at Jon with heartbreaking certainty.

"I promise you, Jeyne. You will never return to him."

The certainty in Jon's voice and the nod from Alys and her husband made the girl sit up a bit taller. She turned to Jon and said in a low but more confident voice. "You can read it all, Lord Jon. It is nothing new. His words won't hurt me."

Val nodded at Jeyne and her incredible show of courage.

Jon shifted his gaze to her, and Val saw the troubled thoughts behind his eyes. She squeezed his thigh.

"I want the wildling princess. I want the little prince, the wildling babe. And I want my Reek. Send them to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep them from me, and I will ride north and slaughter every wilding man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them alive. You-"

Jon's anger was visible to everyone, and Ghost, who had entered with Val, had bared his teeth as soon as Jon began to read. Everyone had distanced themselves from the enormous beast and his silent snarls.

"Snow?" said Tormund Giantsbane. "You look like your father's bloody head just rolled out of that paper."

"Is there more?" Signor asked, his arm wrapped around Alys. His wife was holding Jeyne's hand as if could break at any moment.

"It's just more of the same." He said about to rip it in half, but his eyes kept moving to Val. The hand on her waist tightened around her to the point of pain.

I want the wildling princess. I want the little prince, the wildling babe.

Before he could do anything, Val took the letter, and her blood froze as she scanned the letter.

"Val?" Tor asked in concern.

Val kept her voice cold as she read, "You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your wildling princess. You will watch as my dogs eat your wild little brother and the wildling prince. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets. Keep them from me, and I will cut out your bastard's heart and eat it. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, trueborn Lord of Winterfell, the Dreadfort, and Warden of the North."

There was a long silence in the room.

"The Dreadfort and Warden of the North," Jon muttered, but everyone at the table heard.

"Roose Bolton is dead." Alys Karstark announced.

"Did he die in the battle?"

"Old Roose wouldn't fight in a battlefield when he had the walls of Winterfell to keep him protected." The Liddle said.

"Ramsey killed him," Jeyne said softly. "He dreamt of doing it for a long time. But-" Jeyne took a deep breath before adding. "Lady Walda Frey, his wife, must have given birth by now."

They let the implication of her words wash over them.

"What do you mean to do?" Val asked him. Her eyes covered what she planned to do very clearly.

"I think we have to change the plan," he told her. "We'll see the Dornish sun another time."

"How many men does he have in his army?" Tormund asked.

"Bolton men around three thousand." Jeyne offered. "I heard some of their conversations."

"With Dustin and Ryswell that is well above six thousand men," Jon noted.

"The mountain clans are not even close to two thousand." Donnel Flint offered. "But they'll die to the last men."

"How many do you have?" Jon asked Tormund.

"That can march and fight? Around two thousand. The rest are children and old folk."

"Three thousand." Val countered. They all turned to her. "There are one thousand men around the castles Jon gave us and in Moles Town. They are not watchmen, they are my men. And they will fight. We should speak with the survivors of Hardhome as well. If they won't fight for Mother Antler, they will fight for the men who saved them."

"Who is Mother Antler?" The Liddle asked.

"Val." Alys, Sig, and Tormund said at the same time.

"I have about two hundred," offered Signor.

"If Karhold joins us, I think about 1400," Alys offered. "But if my uncles have already moved the troops to Winterfell... Karhold will open the doors to me, but that won't mean a great deal in fighting men."

"The northern lords might fight with us." Donnel Flint spoke.

"They didn't fight for Stannis."

"No, but they will fight alongside Ned Stark's son. They just need the incentive."

Jon nodded. "We march South for better or for worse."

Author's Note:

Shade: As much I love Book Euron, he won't appear in this story. The villains before the Others' arrival will Ramsay and Littlefinger.